Tail, Part 11 - Female Version

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Note: This is a female version of Tail.

Summary: Following an extended disappearance, Sarah develops a growing tail, which reveals the ability to ingest things, produce things, and act of its own accord. Contains: Female: pregnancy, breast expansion, alien impregnation, tail, stuffing, weight gain, birth.

Previous Chapter

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“Oh god,” said Sarah, as the tail continued to attack her chest, sucking until it was almost painful. The tail’s greedy mouth moved on to her other dripping nipple, and Sarah realized that it was suckling, actually drawing milk. She whimpered.

Finally the tail finished, and pulled away. The mounds on Sarah’s chest were flushed, her nipples considerably erect. But the bloated flesh felt less full than before, now softer, less uncomfortable. She had been engorged.

Sarah shook her head in silent denial as her heaving chest started to tingle. She lifted her gaze to the tail, which was swinging before her forebodingly. Sometimes it would glide almost threateningly towards her chest again, as if to assure her that it would feed whenever it wanted. From wherever it wanted. And whether Sarah liked it or not.

Still quietly panting, Sarah slid her hand up to her chest. They seemed to be full C-cups by then, maybe Ds when they were full. She groaned in disgust. She couldn’t believe she was producing milk.

Feeling nervous about the way the tail was lurking near her sore nipples, Sarah heaved herself up with some struggle, then waddled off to get the tail some food.

-

The arrival of the package of maternity clothes did nothing for Sarah’s uneasiness. Nearly half of her belly bulged out beneath the hems of the stretchy dark tops. She looked overdue with quadruplets by then, after all.

The neckline strained, revealing so much cleavage, it made Sarah uncomfortably aware that her chest had bloated some since that morning. She folded her arms over it, sore as it was. She waddled about, her belly swinging and her back twinging uncomfortably. Sometimes she would clutch at the underside of her great mound, but this did little to help with its weight.

Her cleavage line was...deepening...her chest feeling hot and tingly, her nipples aching almost...keenly, as she panted and tried to distract herself from how needy she felt, and how delightful it might be to glide her fingers against the hard nubs.

She tried to keep the tail distracted by a constant stream of small foods, regretful as she tightened with every morsel it swallowed, until Sarah was so stuffed, she was nearly passing out. She slumped down on the couch, her belly bobbing as she shifted uncomfortably, her swollen belly button protruding outward prominently, much the way her nipples were. Finally her limbs resigned, and she slumped back listlessly, her belly rising and falling with her heavy breathing.

Not missing a beat, the tail dove for her neckline, drawing it down until her breasts popped out. They were definite Ds by then, maybe larger. Her dark pink nipples began to drip as though in anticipation the moment they were freed from the fabric.

Sarah groaned out in discomfort even before the tail latched on. She squirmed and murmured indecipherably, urging it to be easy, take care, slow down.

When it was over, her breasts were softer, but still sure D-cups. Sarah surveyed them absently, still allowing them to protrude over the neckline of her shirt.

Though the mounds were no longer engorged, they still had a round fullness to them, looking fat and healthy, and beautifully perk. They pressed together gently, making a plump line of cleavage. Were these breasts not associated with her condition, they would have been beyond perfect. Instead they were attached to someone who was fat in other places as well.

They were tingling. That meant she was producing, didn’t it? That the mounds were gradually filling in preparation of the tail’s next session of indulgence.

Sarah pulled at her neckline and uneasily tucked the mounds back in. Her fingers glided gently beneath her breasts, to the flat line of her ribs, reminding Sarah of how startling thin she had been mere weeks ago. Her fingers continued down several inches before hitting the start of her belly, a sharp protrusion where it jutted out from her small frame, illogically large, wider than she was. It was a wonder how she still managed to support the massive mound of fat.

Sarah absently stroked it with her hands over her tangerine-sized navel. She shifted her gaze to her silently playing television and found herself licking her lips as a fast food commercial came on. The tail waved around in agreement. For some reason, she was deeply craving meat.

Sarah turned off the TV, trying to shake the thought from her mind. After a few attempts, she managed to heave herself off the couch. She gripped her lower back and wobbled her way to the kitchen. She fed the tail generous portions of berries, cottage cheese, cucumber slices, and even a few small apples. She gripped the fridge door as she was assaulted by hunger pains. It still wasn’t enough.

Sarah found herself gravitating towards the phone, and before she knew it, she had called up the nearby catering company. In hurried tones, she ordered a variety of indulgent things—mashed potatoes soaked in butter sauce with a large side of gravy, creamy macaroni and cheese, mozzarella salad in vegetable oil, and finally, she ordered the centerpiece, feeling herself salivate as she forced the words past her lips.

“The baked ham, with the fat—no, everything attached. No trimming necessary.”

When Sarah hung up the phone, she was somehow shocked by what had just transpired. She told herself to call the catering company back, to cancel the order, but for some reason, she just couldn’t. Her heart raced as she returned to the couch. She found herself consistently glancing up at the clock, and beginning to sweat.

When the doorbell rang, Sarah didn’t hesitate. She struggled a bit, before heaving herself off the couch, gripping what she could of her massive mound, and waddling her way to the front door.

Two men carrying covered trays entered, and Sarah waved feebly to the table, even as the strangers stared at her with blank looks on their faces, one of them freezing in place.

Before she knew it, Sarah’s kitchen table was loaded up with the trays. Sarah distractedly handed one of the delivery men some bills, before practically pushing them both out of the house. She could hardly control the tail, where it was wrapped around her waist, twitching madly. She didn’t care how much of her alien body she had left on display in her ill-fitting apparel. None of it seemed to matter anymore. All that she cared about was the food.

The moment the door closed, Sarah staggered to the kitchen, and the tail dove into the deep tray of macaroni and cheese. Sarah moaned indulgently, her face reddening as lump after lump of pasta worked its way up the length of the tail and pushed inside of her. Her legs quavering by then, Sarah lowered herself to her knees on the hard kitchen floor, bracing herself with her hands, and allowing her belly to press hard down on the cold linoleum as she panted, her mound throbbing, as every piece of macaroni, and every drop of thick cheese sauce, was rapidly pumped into her stomach.

As the tail dove into the mozzarella salad, Sarah savored the familiar sensation of her belly becoming firmer. She groaned in pleasure as her back twinged in pain, and she arched it, pressing her belly harder into the floor, even as the pressure increased uncomfortably, as blob after blob of mozzarella was easily pushed inside of her. There must have been at least ten pounds of the heavy Italian cheese.

Sarah was panting heavily by then, a strand of drool falling freely down her chin. She pawed for her groin, though she could hardly reach it by then. Instead she rocked, allowing her breasts to wiggle and her nipples to sting, goodness, they must have been DDs. “Ohhh!” Sarah choked out, as she felt the tail begin to work on the potatoes.

She couldn’t see it so much as she could feel it, and somehow taste it in the back of her throat. She experienced as each lump of buttery potatoes that was pumped inside of her body. Sarah was dripping sweat, her clothes soaked in it, and she finally had to ease some of her weight off her belly. It was getting really tight by then. She grunted out in discomfort, her hips rocking more gently, the tail pumping her ceaselessly. She was getting close.

The potatoes and gravy were finished in record timing, and suddenly only the ham was left. “Oh god…” Sarah was suddenly having a change of heart. She was so full already. “Wait,” she said, fruitlessly trying to move, to lift her weight, and carry it away from the kitchen. But she was too weak, too lethargic by then. And her belly was just so heavy. God, the pressure was immense.

She cupped the side of it, her belly button pulsing, even starting to ache a bit. Her belly was firm and round, perched there on the kitchen floor. She was propped on her bottom by then, legs spread wide, mound squashed down on her lap, groin tingling beneath.

“Nggghhhh…” Sarah groaned. She looked up at the massive ham—hog-tied, with the head and legs attached, a baked apple between its teeth. It also looked to be stuffed. The ham was truly plump, and fat, and overwhelming. Now the tail was rising high above it, its dimpled opening widening, stretching, again reminding Sarah of a snake opening its jaw for something gigantic. “Wait!” Sarah tugged down her neckline and pinched her nipple, hoping to lure the tail as a fat droplet of milk pushed free. “Don’t—”

But Sarah was helpless as the tail slammed down on the ham.

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